


Granulation

by Salt Fox (CarpentryandDarkMagic)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Divergence - The Last Jedi, Control Issues, Dubious Consent, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Injuries, Mostly Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Post TLJ, Rape/Non-con Elements, Resolved Sexual Tension, Under-negotiated Kink, d/s dynamics, enemies to..., face fucking, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-10-07 11:42:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17365292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarpentryandDarkMagic/pseuds/Salt%20Fox
Summary: From Wikipedia: "Granulation tissue Is new connective tissue and microscopic blood vessels that form on the surfaces of a wound during the healing process....Typically grows from the base of a wound and is able to fill wounds of almost any size".





	1. Hemostasis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the hemostasis stage clotting/coagulation begins to seal off damaged blood vessels
> 
> Hux struggles to adjust to the new dynamic between him and Supreme Leader Kylo Ren.

Hux glanced back and forth down the hallway before shifting uncomfortably, the raw skin of his throat chafing under the immaculately pressed collar of his uniform. He kept his head held high, even in spite of the way his officers stared at the bruises that still remained in the aftermath of the shuttle bridge on Crait.

He was about to reach for the door chime-panel when the portal hissed open seemingly of its own accord. Hux rolled his eyes and entered, his ever-present datapad pressed protectively to his midsection. A step past the threshold, and the door slid closed again. He had schooled himself to avoid startling at the theatrics.

Ren was perched on the edge of a severe-looking black chair, resting his elbows on his knees as he pored over a datapad of his own. Hux assumed he was aware of his presence and waited patiently to be acknowledged.

Since Snoke's (outrageously suspicious) death, Hux had avoided Ren as much as possible. He'd temporarily abandoned the bridge of the _Finalizer_ in favour of his office and the piles and piles of paperwork that were inevitable in the wake of the coup. Under Snoke, Hux had felt at turns like an exasperated nanny and a battered child; he was either trying to steer Ren away from danger or walking on eggshells to avoid triggering the next explosion. The latter state was one with which Hux was all too familiar. But recently, the ship had been blessedly—again, suspiciously—silent. After seething for a few moments of being ignored, Hux bristled.

"You called for me, Lord Ren?"

He didn't look up from his reading.

"I did, General. I wanted your opinion on the latest news from Canto Bight."

Hux shrugged. "It is as I had expected. A petty criminal, greatly skilled but with little aspiration. He seems to bear no love for either the Order or the Resistance." He could see Ren chewing the inside of his cheek, although he still seemed absorbed in his datapad.

"And we placed trackers on his ship, yes?

Hux gritted his teeth. Ren knew the answer and was asking just to make him answer.

"Indeed, though all our intelligence suggests he's of little consequence now that he's left with his reward. The stable master and security officers who allowed the Resistance to infiltrate and escape the casino have been eliminated, as per your orders."

Ren nodded appreciatively.

"I'd like you to oversee the assignment of the replacement security staff."

"Canto Casino is independently operated, Supreme Leader." Hux sneered at the title inwardly. "The First Order isn't involved..."

"I'm aware of that, General. But I agree that the administrators have proven themselves to be a liability to the operation of the First Order in the sector."

"You read my initial reports?"

Ren frowned and glanced at him briefly, annoyed. "Isn't that why you submit them?"

"I...yes, of course. And you agreed with my conclusion."

"It _is_ a perfectly reasonable conclusion. Unless you've come to feel otherwise?"

"Not at all."

Ren finally sat back in his chair and regarded Hux intently for a moment that almost had him squirming. How often had they actually maintained eye contact?

"So you'll see to Canto Bight," Ren said firmly.

"Of course, Lord Ren."

"And I'm still expecting your recommendation for Phasma's replacement."

Hux went stiff. In his mind's eye he saw that particular document sitting ignored on his desk. His relationship with Phasma had been...complicated. Symbiotic, but only by necessity for them both. They'd understood each other. And then of course there was the issue of Hux's father.

"I know there's no ideal in this situation, but I would have expected you to be more invested in a smooth transition for your training program. If necessary we'll split the position between several officers, but it has to happen."

Bridling at the reprimand, Hux allowed his face to go slack in his practiced way. He nodded curtly by way of response.

Under Snoke it had been bad enough; Ren's designation as joint Commander had been like a jewel to hang on a pet's collar. But now the boy seemed to consider himself Hux's superior. Precious little training, no military rank to speak of, no discipline, and no experience. At least Snoke had connections—he'd had access to the resources necessary to make the Order a force to be reckoned with in the galaxy. It would take more than a week to make a leader out of a spoiled child.

Spurred on by his anger, Hux locked eyes with Ren, half expecting him to hear his treasonous thoughts and exert that crushing pressure on his throat again.

Instead, to his surprise, Ren blinked lazily and went back to his reading, leaving Hux feeling like a blaster bolt had just screamed past his ear.

"You're dismissed, General Hux."

Hux took the opportunity and left while he could. Easily the worst part about the scolding was that Ren was uncharacteristically _right_.

The next gods-awful trek to Ren's quarters had Hux even more on edge. Ren seemed to have given up his habitual rages—for which Hux was deeply grateful—but his new reticence was more...unsettling. He was trying to prepare himself for a return to the violence.

This time, the door opened before he even approached it. To his dismay, he found Ren pacing fitfully beyond the small seating area. Hux could see the muscles clenching in his jaw.

"General Hux, report."

"Sir. I'm sure you're aware the situation on Canto Bight was...more complicated than we'd hoped."

Ren continued his pacing, bringing a hand to his mouth to worry at a ragged fingernail before gesturing for Hux to go on.

"The administration were resolute in terms of their continued ownership but rather more amenable to a certain amount of oversight. We reached an agreement."

Hux set his mouth in a line and handed Ren the datapad.

Ren flicked at the screen, reading over the terms and conditions. Hux's shoulders tensed as the moment stretched on. Ren glanced back at him, his usually expressive face unreadable. Accustomed as Hux had been to Ren's rages, this new commander was still a mystery to him. Not that that thought made him any less uncomfortable as he waited for the other shoe to drop. When he heard a resonant murmur, he found himself leaning in closer to hear.

"...acceptable to you?"

Hux could feel Ren's gaze like rain falling on his face.

"You want my opinion?"

"Please."

A lesser man might have gaped in disbelief. Suddenly, Hux found himself struggling to remember the minutiae of the agreement. It had all been done over comms, of course, once it became clear that the Casino's facilitators had been outfitted to defend against an actual takeover by the small faction they'd sent planetside.

"I believe the compromise is acceptable, yes, in lieu of taking ownership directly." He tried to sound sure of himself. "We gain contacts with more weapons and parts dealers as well as a portion of profits. We save resources by avoiding a siege, and we've deployed enough men to strengthen our intelligence gathering measures in the sector. I'd consider it a qualified success."

Ren's face had shifted, his expression placid. Were it anyone else, Hux would have called it relief.

Ren’s eyes shifted from Hux's face to his neck. Was he imagining the sensation of fingertips brushing where there had once been bruises? His still aching ribs gave a twinge and Ren exhaled a harsh sigh.

"Thank you, General. I'm sure you have much to do."

"...yes, sir."

Grateful for an end to the awkwardness, Hux saluted smartly and left the room.

Out in the hallway, it occurred to him. That had been the first time he'd saluted the now-leader of the First Order. What had gotten into him? Into both of them? He'd assumed the Commander's silence had been sullenness. Brooding or sulking would have been in character for him, but this… The room, though sparsely furnished, had been full of star charts, datapads, reports. Paperwork. The clutter reminded Hux more of his own quarters than Snoke's throne room on the Supremacy, which he had assumed Ren would have taken over had the ship survived.

This new Ren seemed reserved, as if somehow diminished. And he'd caught him staring at his throat. He was sure the bruises were healed, though his ribs had been more badly damaged and still pained him. He touched his side self-consciously and remembered Ren's eyes on his. His own fingers lifted and grazed the scar that marred his lip—a more permanent souvenir from the battle on Crait. A shiver of revulsion went through him and he dropped his hand, gathering himself with a shake of his head. He would feel better after a drink and a good night's sleep.

This new Ren seemed reserved, as if somehow diminished. And he'd caught him staring at his throat. He was sure the bruises were healed, though his ribs had been more badly damaged and still pained him. He touched his side self-consciously and remembered Ren's eyes on his own. Hux’s fingers lifted and grazed the scar that marred his lip—a more permanent souvenir from the battle on Crait. A shiver of revulsion went through him and he dropped his hand, gathering himself with a shake of his head. He would feel better after a drink and a good night's sleep.

Hux tugged at the hem of one glove absently and smoothed his already perfect hair. With a frown, he read over Ren's mission report for what felt like the hundredth time. Another qualified success, really, but he could tell Ren considered it a failure. He felt the chill energy that always preceded these meetings; cold and tense, apprehensive. Impatient. Like a storm that energy would build slowly, come to a head, and pass, leaving them both with the knowledge it would come again.

Armitage Hux was possibly the least Force-sensitive person in the galaxy, but he could practically feel Ren fidgeting angrily. He had kept him waiting a little longer than usual, longer than the situation warranted. But Hux figured that was part of the point. So he let his attention drift back to his paperwork—paperwork that still accumulated despite Ren's newfound attention. He knew he was risking Ren's displeasure, but he rankled under that attention. This time Ren could wait for him.

Apparently this misstep was one too far. His own chamber door slid open with a whoosh then shut again, announcing the black cloud of Ren's presence.

"I called for you," Ren snapped.

"I..." Hux jumped to his feet. "Ren...Lord Ren..." He found himself at a loss. That put him on unfamiliar ground. A place he absolutely despised. He was almost prepared to say something scandalized about Ren violating the sanctity of his _living quarters_ when he heard a queer little sound in the silence.

 _Plip_.

He met Ren's raging gaze before hearing it again. _Plip_.

He looked down and didn't even think to stop himself.

"Are you... _bleeding_ on my floor?"

His own eyes went wide. Surely he was about to meet an unceremonious end, choking on nothing at his father's hideous desk.

Yet again, when Hux raised his eyes, Ren's face had become inscrutable. He could feel that disgust was clearly expressed on his own. Ren's right glove and sleeve were a shredded mess; between scraps of burnt fabric, Hux could see pale skin and fresh red blood. That same blood was sullying his floor, running freely in rivulets and pooling on the gleaming tile. Tiny muscles in Ren's cheek were twitching in a way Hux was altogether too horrified to interpret. And then one eyebrow raised. And then the corner of his mouth…

"Are you.... _laughing at me?_ " He could feel heat in his face. He had taught himself to stay calm in interpersonal relations to avoid such embarrassment. And Ren had brought that embarrassment right into his office, because of course he fucking had.

Ren's mouth twitched again.

"I guess I've paid you back for your disrespect," he muttered darkly. Hux had nothing to say to that, which only stoked his temper more. He couldn't stop thinking about the little trails of Ren's filth that were being left in his rooms. "I shouldn't be surprised that a little blood would upset you. I summoned you."

Hux couldn't tear his eyes away from Ren's arm.

"Shall I run next time?"

"Is being in the same room as me so offensive?"

Another unschooled expression crossed Hux's face. Whatever this new game was, he was unwilling to play.

"Why. Are you in. My rooms."

"Your rooms? On my ship? You forget yourself, General. Apparently a summons isn't enough to get your attention." Ren stepped towards the desk and a new wave of loathing hit Hux as new pools of blood started to gather. He could _smell_ Ren. Blood, sweat, ozone from blaster fire. Would that odour linger in his rooms just as Ren's blood would on his floor?

"You are injured, My Lord. Allow me to call you a medic."

"No!" Ren's hand flew up and Hux's chest tightened in anticipation of a slow loss of breath. Instead, Ren raised his other hand in front of Hux in an almost conciliatory gesture. "That won't be necessary, General. I prefer to handle minor wounds myself."

"I've seen minor wounds. You need a medic." He squinted back into Ren's scarred face. "How long have you been bleeding?"

"I assure you, General Hux, I'm not in shock." He twisted his injured wrist and flexed his fingers. "And I can't feel a thing."

"Adrenaline after a battle can..."

Ren rolled his eyes.

"The faster we debrief the faster I'll be out of your quarters. And the faster you can summon a droid to clean this up."

Hux set his jaw and stiffly gestured toward the chair across from his desk. A nanny again, then.

"Sit."

Bemused, Ren sat gracelessly, tucking his wounded arm into his lap. He watched as Hux opened a drawer and removed a med kit. He began to lay out a cloth treated with antiseptic, covering it with rolls of bandage and a small pot of Bacta liniment.

Ren walked around to the other side of the desk and held out one hand, crooking his fingers expectantly. Hux steadfastly refused to meet Ren's eyes now, even as he held out his injured arm. He studied the ruined glove and sleeve before deciding it should be safe enough to move the fabric.

"Your incursion planetside was not intended to include battle at all."

He carefully pulled the blood-soaked leather free from Ren's fingers and proceeded to pull the sleeve back to the elbow. There was a deep gouge in his forearm, seemingly already cauterized. The blaster fire, then. Or perhaps he'd actually caught himself on his outlandish lightsaber. Somehow Hux wouldn't have been surprised. The hand itself was filthy with blood, soot, dirt and stars knew what else.

Hux leaned back and pulled another antiseptic wipe from the kit, speaking in measured tones as he set to cleaning the flesh and discovering the actual extent of the wounds. "Seven troopers lost, along with their equipment." With Snoke's loss so came the loss of his apparently limitless funds. "Compared to the destruction of an insurgent base hostile to the Order yet not seemingly connected to the Rebellion at large, such as it remains."

He discarded the fouled wipe, pulled another free of its container, and continued to work.

"You don't have to do this," Ren said softly.

"As far as half of the troopers are convinced you're a legendary wizard, and I won't have the Supreme Leader of the First Order wandering about our Flagship bleeding freely onto all the floors. And since you're apparently afraid to show weakness in front of a _med-bot_ , it falls to me to make sure you don't fester and die of sepsis inside your robes. Your mission came at minimal cost to the Order, and it seems to increase morale for troopers to see you on the field of battle away from a Throne Room. In the wake of...Crait. And Phasma." He kept his gaze studiously downcast. "Morale is badly needed. While the cost was unexpected, it's far from unacceptable."

Dropping the next cloth, Hux leaned down to examine Ren's hand more carefully. He picked up the pot of Bacta without looking and applied a thin layer to the raw skin, including around the edges of Ren's nails, which he'd seen him chewing at when he thought no one was watching. Ren sniffed in distaste and Hux realised he was one of those who hated the viscous texture of the stuff. Feeling petty, Hux added another, thicker layer over top before bandaging the hand. He then turned his attention to the ragged divot carved into Ren's forearm.

"As far as personal loss goes, I doubt it would scar if properly attended to. Topical Bacta will do for now, but I still recommend the med-bay..."

Ren had gone quiet, in spite of Hux’s ungentle treatment. His eyes were soft, his face slack. He'd never seen him in meditation, but from what he knew of the practice it must be something like this. Hux silenced himself and finished wrapping Ren's arm. Something about the hush and the closeness made him queasy.

Once the bandage was firmly tied and Hux had nothing to busy his hands, the discomfort grew and he found himself standing in a tense parade rest. He averted his eyes and waited for Ren to regain his senses. He resented being so put-off in his own chambers, previously the only place on the ship he didn’t feel unself-conscious.

He'd never seen Ren so deeply tranquil. How like Kylo Ren that it should come at the direct expense of Hux's own peace. It made bile rise in his throat. He wanted to shake him, to scream “GET OUT!” Instead he waited, as he so often did. Ren stood. Hux watched him look absently down at his arm. Ren stared at the ground for a few seconds, then turned and left.

Hux was left utterly shaken, his desk covered in filthy rags and blood drying on his floor. Nauseated, he staggered back to his bedroom. With trembling hands he dialed for immediate cleaning service and poured several fingers of liquor into a tumbler, which he threw back in two hard gulps. For an instant he had to cover his mouth with the back of his hand to keep it from coming back up. Tonight no sleep would come for him, he knew, so he chose a mild sedative to drag him from miserable consciousness. From the imagined feeling of phantom fingertips at his throat.

The same tumbler came to take an almost permanent place on Hux's desk. Tonight, it had been drained and filled repeatedly. Also on his desk sat the roster of officers from which he would choose the new Commander of the trooper training program. Naturally, Phasma was impossible to truly replace. She'd been exceptional. Even Brendol had seen that on Parnassos. Just before...his decline. She wouldn't have mourned Hux's loss if it had been the other way around. He knew that. It only deepened his dejection. If anyone in the First Order could have been his equal, a true Co-Commander, it would have been Phasma. A keen mind for battle, but controlled. Disciplined. Loyal. To him, at least. For the time, at least. He even understood that her loyalty to him was temporary. It had lasted as long as he was useful to her. But he had intended to remain useful, as she had been to him.

Hux was, for the first time in a long time, truly drunk. Thinking about Phasma and Brendol, and feeling uncomfortably honest with himself, his mind drifted to the only other thing that could possibly make him more miserable. Generally speaking, that was just about everything in his life. Specifically, it was Kylo Ren. The fact that Snoke's former enforcer loomed so large in his view of his life was testament to how wrong everything had gone, and how quickly.

Snoke had entertained dreams of a new Empire. He already had his Throne. And he had Kylo Ren as the new Darth Vader, his feared second-in-command. Except Vader had been respected, not only feared. And Hux could see that there had been no true place for himself in that Empire. Not a place he deserved. He'd been Commander of Starkiller Base, the greatest power behind the First Order. Greater than the Empire's Death Star. That had been _his_ achievement.

But Snoke had his arrogance, his faith in himself as a teacher and master. His misplaced faith in Ren's capability—in his _stability_. He'd put Ren's hopeless training above the Order's goals. A failure as a leader. Between Starkiller Base and Hux and Phasma leading the trooper training, the First Order should have been unstoppable. Snoke had brought about his own downfall. But he _had_ been the backbone of the First Order. And without Phasma, who knew how long it would take to set the training program right again? It had taken Phasma and Hux together to wrest it from Brendol's influence and make it what it was. What it _needed_ to be.

And even that system had had its flaws. Its flaw.

FN-2187.

He had also been exceptional—Phasma's only failure. Except it hadn't been only one failure. Repeated lapses in judgement. Despite lecturing FN-2187 about his empathy making him weak, she hesitated to have him reconditioned. And she had indulged herself in vengeance by insisting that his death be personally satisfying. And now she was dead.

Hux reached for his glass and fumbled, knocking it onto the floor. He swore under his breath and stared at the splash of expensive brandy wasted on the tile. Angry at his own weakness, his useless sentimentality, he punished himself by stumbling to bed. He would hate waking in a sweat-rumpled uniform with a mouth tasting of sticky rot. It served him right for indulging, physically and emotionally. _Especially emotionally_. He'd wake up early, push down his shame. Throw today's uniform in his personal laundry, linger in the 'fresher, then spend another day drowned in paperwork and distraction. Until the evening. And the brandy. Phasma's replacement could wait until then.

~~~

Staring out into the star-speckled infinity from the bridge of the _Finalizer_ , Hux cast his thoughts back farther than he usually allowed. He thought back to the _Imperialis_. To Gallius Rax and to Rae Sloane. Rax had given Hux the gift of a future he never could have had under his father’s questionable guidance. He recognized that then, as now. Sloane had given him the freedom to use that gift to its fullest advantage.

Rax had expected loyalty to the Empire he sought to rebirth. Sloane needed something more tangible—protection from Brendol’s child soldiers. Give and take, just as things had been with Phasma.

With a clearer head, Hux realised that these daydreams were leading him to something. He was always trying to deny his past, painful as it had been. But he saw that what he needed to do now was exactly as he’d always done before; he needed to level the playing field. He would counter-balance Ren’s weakness. Hux had spent the better part of his life learning how best to program people. How to condition them, hammer their malleable minds into whatever shape he needed. It worked best on children, of course. But perhaps now he didn’t need to write the program himself. He simply needed to turn the tool to the work at hand. He remembered the glassy look on Ren’s face when he’d tended to his wound, how he’d gone gentle at Hux’s touch.

A smug smile spread over Hux’s face. He felt almost like his old self at the thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angry bad boys who deserve nothing better than each other. I love them.


	2. Inflammatory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inflammatory stage is necessary to control bleeding and prevent infection, localized swelling allows healing and repair.

General Hux waited, as he had done so many times before.

When he was a child and Rax had given him the Commandant’s Cadets, his first taste of power had unleashed something vicious in him. Hux could still see the blood streaking the boy’s mouth where he had ordered his comrade to strike. 

Having a strategy in mind gave him the patience to wait until the time was right. Patience he hadn’t had as a child. His interactions with Ren remained strange and tense, still frequently hostile. As always, Hux kept his distance. And he watched.

Ren didn’t want an Empire--he barely believed in the goals of the First Order. What he craved most was strength and power.

But there was more he wanted. 

Acceptance. 

Ren hadn’t been raised in the military, yet he’d followed master after master and now he had no one left but himself. He was lonely and taking it poorly. All Hux needed to do was wait for Ren to fail; he would lose a battle, or the trail of some precious relic would go cold. Without Snoke to reorient him he would come unmoored, and Hux would be there. A new anchor point. And maybe something else that he suspected Ren wanted.

Something was very different about their dynamic. Hux resented Ren entirely but obedience to rank was deeply ingrained in him. Sometimes he would salute and obey. Sometimes he would antagonize Ren -- never in front of their subordinates, but enough to see storm clouds in those dark eyes. And sometimes he would stand a little too close, or feign bashfulness at Ren’s gaze. He would work himself under the Supreme Leader's skin sure as a thorn. He would capitalise on Ren’s childlike impulse to reach out and he would use it to drag himself up to Ren’s level. 

But Hux was frustrated to find that the more Ren reacted to his pretense of lust, the less he needed to pretend.

Ren still seemed calmer than before. And yet more than once Hux had reacted to a raised voice or threat of violence and seen Ren visibly...affected. 

Having to share command of Starkiller and the _Finalizer_ had chafed Hux. But being co-Leaders of the entire First Order… That was a goal worthy of his focus for which he was willing to make certain personal sacrifices. 

So he waited. 

~~~

The right time came after Ren made a pilgrimage to the planet Dathomir, the former home of Darth Sidious’ other apprentice Darth Maul. Ren’s new obsession, after the scavenger’s rejection of him and the absolute failure of Crait, was to continue Snoke’s collection of Force lore and artifacts. Most had been destroyed along with the _Supremacy_.

Ren seemed to feel that it was his destiny to bury the Sith and Jedi traditions. To do it he was seeking anything he could find to lead him to greater power in the Force. So Ren went in search of an ancient witch temple where he hoped to glean some lost secret. 

During his absence, Hux arranged contracts with a new mining corporation that was encroaching on planets that had previously been protected by the Republic. If there was one thing Hux had learned from the ruined Empire of his childhood and then again under Snoke it was the importance of tangible resources.

Upon Ren’s return to the flagship, Hux paid him a visit. Out of respect for the Supreme Leader’s command, Hux brought his report on the new acquisition and a few other matters that would warrant the Commander’s attention. Before, during Snoke’s reign, Ren would return from some “training mission” or other brimming with anger and frustration, or sometimes even too utterly exhausted to bother destroying anything on the way to his quarters. 

When Hux was admitted he saw the same piles of charts and ‘pads, and Ren seated in the same chair as usual with a knuckle pressed to his mouth in contemplation. No fatigue, no manic pacing, no comm panels rent asunder. Still, a kind of bitterness still hung about him. Hux considered him for a moment.

“You should have a desk.”

“Should I?”

“It helps make sense of...this,” Hux gestured at the mess on the table. 

“Hm.”

Hux offered the datapad and noticed immediately that Ren reached for it with his off hand. He saw that Ren was moving his right hand stiffly as he tapped at the screen.

“Lord Ren. Your arm troubles you still?”

Ren looked down at his own hand. When he moved it Hux could see a scrap of bandage peeking out from beneath his quilted sleeve. He looked back to Hux.

“I wouldn’t say it _troubles_ me, General, no.”

“But you are still wounded.”

“Your concern troubles me, if I’m being honest.” 

There was a rare sharpness in Ren’s voice. Hux rolled his eyes. 

“Surely my desire to have the Supreme Leader of the First Order remain alive isn’t suspect.”

“It’s absolutely suspect. You wanted Snoke dead almost as badly as the Resistance did. One fewer obstacle in your way. I would have said you wanted _me_ dead even more -- I’d be deluded to think you didn’t still want it.” He reached towards Hux with an open hand. “And I don’t have to guess to know the truth.”

Hux felt a mild discomfort in his head and knew Ren was probing his mind. Gentler than Snoke, or even Ren himself when he interrogated a prisoner. He was holding back slightly, Hux suspected, but he couldn’t imagine why. Hux wished, not for the first time, that he had that same ability to pluck the truth from a person’s mind. To know every thought and fear and hope and memory. He allowed those thoughts to drift to the forefront of his mind for Ren to hear. 

“I don’t see you as someone who has a hard time reading people, General,” Ren said in answer to Hux’s unspoken notion. 

He had that searching look in his eyes again.

Hux remembered the last time they’d met in private, when he’d tended Ren’s arm. Then, he’d done it to expedite an encounter he found uncomfortable. Now he had the opposite aim — to linger in Ren’s presence. 

_You’ve never come here on your own before. Why now? And don’t say it’s for my health._

There was something deeply unsettling about Ren projecting thoughts directly into his mind. Usually it went the other way around, Ren drawing things from him. It made the hairs on the nape of his neck prickle and he looked away from Ren’s face. 

“You didn’t change the bandages at all while you were planetside, I assume.”

Ren didn’t respond. Hux was unsure of how far he should push. 

“It makes me think...that you didn’t find what you were looking for.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

Hux thought he could hear the ice underfoot cracking. He tread carefully, hoping the water wasn’t too deep should he fall through.

“I think if you had succeeded you would have tended to yourself better. You healed the wound in your side after Starkiller, but not your face. You succeeded with Solo, but not with the girl.”

Ren surged up out of his chair and was at Hux’s throat in an instant. Instead of throwing him with the Force, he actually grabbed him and crushed him up against a wall. Having Ren’s hands on him was somehow worse. Hux reached up to try and wrest them from his throat but even without Ren’s sorcery he was outmatched. 

“ _WHY_ are you doing this?” Ren demanded.

Hux couldn’t answer. His vision was starting to blacken at the edges. 

“I can _feel_ you watching me, General Hux. You think you know my weaknesses. You think you can use me. _You know nothing_.”

Hux struggled. He could barely think. 

_...trying... to help you._

Hux gasped painful breaths as the pressure on his throat lessened. Ren still glared but obviously expected for Hux to speak.

“You think I need your help,” Ren said.

“Of course you do, you fool. You think you’ll just become Leader of the Order and everything in the galaxy will bend to your will? It took Snoke _years_ and the kind of bankroll you can’t even _imagine_. It took an entire army. _My_ army! You think I’m some grasping sycophant, but what power Snoke had he needed the Imperial remnants to take. If you’d died in that throne room…”

“You mean when you almost tried to kill me?”

“After you killed Snoke! The Order would have been mine, and I would have earned it. You’ve taken it by your own means, and you’ve _no idea_ how to keep it! Of course I’m using you. And I’d encourage you to do the same. _You need me, Ren._ ”

“Only one problem with that,” Ren hissed, tightening his hand on Hux’s throat again. “I fucking hate you.” 

“You hate everything. And you could kill me whenever you please. I haven’t forgotten that,” Hux kept one hand on the back of Ren’s, still trying to pry it away. “Why can’t you see how perfect this could be!?”

“Why should I trust you? I know about your father.”

“My father was a useless lump of a man. He was fat and lazy and stupid by the end. You would have hated him more than me.”

“...more than you hated him, or more than I hate you?” Ren asked wryly. 

“Both. Probably.” 

Hux could feel some of Ren’s resistance draining away, and he chose to push just a little against the tension in him. 

“Let me help you, Ren.” Hux breathed, squirming in his grasp and extending his tender neck to rest his head back against the wall. “Use me.”

There. The ice shattered, and Hux heard a tiny sound escape Ren as his throat worked.

“You unbelievable bastard.”

Hux smiled.

“You’ll have to do better than that, I’m afraid. That one stopped working on me when I was seven. I’m nothing if not adaptable, Ren. And determined.”

Hux hadn’t worn his greatcoat, his gloves or his cap. For a First Order officer he was practically semi-nude. He spread his legs so that Ren could crowd in even closer. 

As far as he was aware, Ren had grown up in a Jedi Temple, an environment practically legendary for its asceticism. But here was Kylo Ren, turned toward the Dark and drawing all his beloved power from _passion_. Hux reached up and boldly thumbed at Ren’s lower lip. 

“I fucking hate you.”

“So _fucking_ hate me,” Hux hissed.

With a snarl Ren spun Hux around and shoved his chest against the wall, grinding his hips hard against his ass. Hux laughed around the pain in his cheekbone as Ren pushed his face into the durasteel panel. Ren forced one of Hux’s arms painfully hard behind his body, pinning his hand up almost to his shoulder blades. That left plenty of room for him to lean his lower body against Hux, who tried to reciprocate without putting more pressure on his wrenched shoulder. 

“Don’t move.”

“Are you sure?” Hux asked darkly, pushing back against Ren.

“Shut up!” 

Of course Hux found himself unable to speak. 

As Ren continue to rub his cock roughly along the crease of Hux’s ass, he found himself equally... _affected_. Disgust welled up in him, but with his free hand Hux reached back and grabbed at the hard muscle of Ren’s thigh. 

Ren’s humid breath against the back of his neck sent a pleasurable shiver through him and he squirmed, trying to shift his own pelvis to stop the painful crush of his erection against the wall.  
Ren reached around Hux’s body and grabbed at his cock, pressing it into the palm of his own unyielding hand. 

“Don’t come,” Ren ordered mercilessly, fondling Hux as he thrust against him. 

Had it not been for the artificial silence Hux would have cried out. Instead he just wheezed silently. 

Ren continued to rock against him and Hux felt all the same arousal, but none of the satisfaction of Ren’s hand stroking him. His command not to move wasn’t a compulsion and Hux was free to struggle with all his strength. As Hux writhed, the low moans coming from Ren told him he had done exactly as he was meant to. It was absolutely agonizing. Ren drew it out, varying his rhythm to keep teasing Hux toward a climax he knew wouldn’t come. The effect of Ren’s Force command was like a vice at the base of his cock. 

Hux fought harder, jerking his hips back in an attempt to escape the sensation and chase Ren’s touch at the same time, only to have Ren bite his neck hard as he came with a deep growl.

Sated, Ren panted against Hux, nuzzling aggressively at the back of his head while his breathing returned to normal. He released Hux’s aching arm from behind him but kept his other hand curled possessively around Hux’s still hard cock. 

When Ren finally pulled away he did so all at once, leaving Hux to push himself off the wall only to fall back against it, sore and frustrated. 

Ren regarded him with a cold stare for a long moment, then turned toward the doorway to his bedroom.

“You’re dismissed, General.”

~~~

The next day Hux served his bridge shift as scheduled. Everything had been going precisely as it should.

And then, of course, there was a matter of allocation of fleet resources that required consultation with the Supreme Leader; a manufacturing station in the Mid Rim was being harassed by a group of unaffiliated pirates and requesting assistance. Hux sent Ren the same kind of businesslike comm he’d sent hundreds of times in the days of Snoke’s leadership. 

The reply was an affirmative and a summons to the Supreme Leader’s chambers.

Malcontent, Hux assigned the bridge to the 2IC for the rest of his shift.  
When Hux entered the suite, Ren had already cleared the table of its mountains of disorder and laid out a med kit. Hux met his expectant stare with a sigh. 

“You said to let you help me.”

“I thought you said you preferred to tend to these kinds of injuries _yourself_?”

“Hux...”

“How often can I expect to have my work interrupted?”

“ _Hux._ ”

“ _Ren._ ”

“Help me.”

At that Hux could do nothing but comply. 

“Sit,” Ren said as he approached. 

Ren’s chair was the only one in the room. Hux raised an eyebrow and Ren gestured down at the floor. 

Hux frowned. And then he knelt. 

Ren watched, heavy-lidded, as Hux rolled up his sleeve and removed the bandage around his forearm. He found himself pleased to see rough pink flesh healing nicely. The edges of the laceration had begun to pull back together. Ren had been lucky that the wound had been sealed by its own heat. Hux had no skill with stitches. 

The wound needed little cleaning at this stage, but Hux wiped at the surrounding skin with the antiseptic anyway. He heard a little catch in Ren’s breath at the touch of his hands. Ren didn’t seem interested in concealing his reaction, so Hux lingered over that step briefly. 

Practically-minded as ever, Hux wouldn’t leave the wound exposed for too long. A thin layer of bacta followed, and then fresh bandages. He ran a soothing hand down to Ren’s wrist and looked up into his eyes. He sat down onto his heels without releasing Ren’s hand, waiting to see how he would choose to disturb the silence. 

He didn’t for what seemed like a long time. So Hux sat, drawing little circles on the heel of Ren’s hand with his thumb. Moments of quiet were rare in Hux’s life, so he simply allowed himself to enjoy this one. 

At last, Ren stirred. He took his hand away and reached out to curl his fingers under Hux’s chin. He seemed to examine Hux’s face. Slowly he brought his thumb to trace the line of his lower lip. Hux relaxed his mouth obligingly and put both his hands low on Ren’s thighs. Ren looked at him with beseeching eyes, but Hux wouldn’t offer. Not yet. For now he would wait to be asked. 

“Why are you doing this?” Ren asked. 

“I told you. I think you need me.”

“I need _this_?” Ren stroked at Hux’s lip again. 

In answer, Hux took Ren’s thumb into his mouth and brushed the pad with his tongue. Ren gasped and withdrew it but Hux leaned forward to push his cheek into Ren’s hand. 

“Some people do. You seem to be one of them.”

“What makes you say that?”

“ _You_ called for _me_ , Ren. Besides, I need you to need me.”

“You do,” Ren agreed warily.

“I know. Where else would I go?”

“So say it.”

Hux turned his head and spoke, his lips moving against Ren’s palm, eyes looking back to Ren’s face to watch the effect on him.

“I need you.”

Ren stood from his chair and bent to reach for him, his eyes locked on Hux’s face. 

“Not that.”

He slid his thumb back between Hux’s lips. This time Hux closed his mouth around it and sucked. 

“Hux…” Ren pressed down on Hux’s tongue to the point of discomfort, pushed in just a little too far. He pulled his thumb back out and slid it, spit-slick, across Hux’s cheek.

“Say it.”

“I want you.” 

It barely felt like a lie.

Ren reached around to the back of his head and grasped his hair gently. With his other hand he reached under his own tunic to the waistband of his pants, lowering them just enough to pull his cock out. Hux eyed it and then looked back up at Ren, whose face had gone bright red. He was waiting for Ren to tell him what to do, but instead Ren wrapped his and around his own cock and started stroking it next to Hux’s face. 

Hux couldn’t keep his eyes in one place. No matter where he looked, he wanted to see more. Ren’s face, or his hands, or his cock. The pale strip of belly above it trailing dark hair. Ren’s chest heaving as he touched himself. 

Hux wouldn’t offer what wasn’t asked for. Ren’s fingers tightened in his hair, and he was trembling on his feet. 

“Hux…”

Hux gazed up into his eyes provocatively and Ren sighed.

“Open your mouth.”

Hux fully expected Ren to come in his mouth. Instead he felt the grip on his hair loosen and Ren’s thumb plunging back into his mouth.

“Suck me.”

Hux’s cheeks hollowed as he did as he was told and Ren moaned as he came into his own hand. His eyes stayed closed through his climax; he couldn’t see the quizzical look on Hux’s face. When Ren did open his eyes, he was gently thrusting his thumb between Hux’s lips. 

“You can’t hide from me. I see all the things you want, but won’t ask for. That’s what I’m going to order you to do,” he said coldly.

At that, something strange and fierce ignited in Hux’s chest. He suddenly took hold of Ren’s other hand, covered in his cum, and began to lick it clean. Ren watched him rapturously and lowered himself to his knees. When Hux was done he pressed his lips firmly to Ren’s palm. They were both breathing heavily. Ren reached for Hux’s crotch, but Hux stayed his hand. Ren’s body went tense.

“It’s fine,” Hux breathed, kissing his hand again. “I should go.”

There was barely concealed hurt in Ren’s eyes.

“Right.”

Ren shifted to sit more comfortably, leaning against the chair, while Hux stood and adjusted his uniform, inspecting the damage to the shine on his boots. When Hux was at the door, about to leave, Ren called his name softly again. He looked back.

“Thank you.”

Hux hardly knew how to take that. So he nodded and left.

~~~

They developed a routine, practically a ritual: Ren would summon Hux to his chambers. Hux would go to him. There was always work to talk about. They would argue about something, usually. 

But Hux noted one thing very specifically. 

Ren seemed to have meant what he’d said. 

_All the things you want, but won’t ask for..._

Ren demanded nothing that Hux hadn’t already submitted to, whether in thoughts or actions.

Hux was beginning to realise that there were definitely advantages to a sexual relationship with someone who could read his mind.

~~~

Perched on his knees between Ren’s legs, fully dressed, Hux stroked Ren through a shuddering climax, jealous as usual at its intensity. He kept working his wrist to draw Ren past the point of pleasure and release into whimpering distress until Ren was begging him to stop. 

With a last twist of his hand, Hux pulled away and sat back on his heels, enjoying a moment of peace and (relative) quiet in Ren's presence.

When Hux returned from the 'fresher, rag in hand, Ren had turned up the lights. He was gazing up at Hux from beneath his dark lashes. The effect was charming. Hux knew what was coming but pretended otherwise as he gently wiped Ren's mess from his stomach and thighs. 

_Ren presented Hux an image of himself, his uniform pants hiked down around his ass and Ren's usually frowning mouth wet around his cock._

He straightened and stared coolly at the real Ren, who spoke softly. 

"If you want..."

"You know I don't," Hux replied, voice perfectly measured and neutral. 

_Another image. Ren's hand stroking him through his trousers._

"I know you do it yourself, after you leave." 

"And I know _you_ know I do it because I prefer it."

Again Hux's voice was gently matter-of-fact. He was never cruel with Ren when he rejected this advance. Even Ren didn't deserve that. 

Ren was usually in some state of undress when he made this offer, as if he knew his open defenselessness was the thing that brought Hux closest to accepting. 

To Hux's dismay, Ren was absolutely right. He would have expected to resent Ren's increasingly successful attempts to undermine his detachment, but he knew that eventually he would acquiesce. And he would mean it.

What he dreaded was what came after that.

~~~

Hux woke in the middle of the night to the grating sound of a comm alert. His frustration was tinged with worry; few things could be important enough that the Delta shift commander would wake him in the middle of his sleep cycle. 

“Speak,” Hux barked into his comm.

“Apologies, General. We’ve had an order from Supreme Leader Ren. To prepare the Silencer, Sir.” 

“Ren’s ship.”

“Yessir.”

“And instead you’re waking me.”

“Lord Ren seemed… _disturbed_ , sir. He spoke of a revelation, a vision. Some rebel girl and Leia Organa. He refused a detail of support fighters.”

Hux swore internally, his mind racing. 

“He is the Supreme Leader of the First Order, and the Commander of its fleet. His orders are to be obeyed.” The words practically stung his throat. He began to dress hurriedly as he spoke. “Have you spoken to anyone else about this? Anyone on the bridge?”

“No, General. I called you as soon as I received the prep order from the hangar.”

“Keep it that way. I won’t have you spreading insubordination on my ship.”

There was ice in the officer’s voice when she acknowledged. Hux cut the feed and jammed the comm in his pocket, stuffing his feet into his boots and practically running to the corridor. If Ren came unhinged he wouldn’t bring the Order down with him. Hux wouldn’t allow it. 

When he reached Ren’s door, he finally hesitated. He had no idea what he might find beyond it. With no other option facing him, he tapped the door chime. 

Nothing. 

No theatrics. No answer at all. 

Hux input an emergency security override and the door opened. He had no choice now but to enter. 

In the seating room, the evidence of Ren’s attempts at administration were back, cluttering the table. He couldn’t decide whether he should be relieved or worried. When he called for Ren, his voice felt small in the quiet. 

Nothing.

Hux commed the hangar bay and demanded to know the Supreme Leader’s location. 

“Leader Ren has just left the _Finalizer_ in his Silencer, General Hux. Shall I patch you through?”

Hux denied the request and thumbed off the comm. He called Ren from an emergency frequency and demanded a reply. Nothing. Hux stood chewing the inside of his cheek for a moment before throwing the comm into the other room with a screamed curse. 

Whatever nonsense Ren was chasing, apparently it was left to Hux to wait for his return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check the tags, there's consent heavily implied via mind-reading and the sexual dynamics have a heavy D/s element.


	3. Proliferation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux deals with the fallout of Ren's "revelation".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly where the explicit tags come into play, so take a gander at those.
> 
> My beta deserves even more credit than usual with this chapter, keeping me in line in terms of tone, characterization and.........ellipses.
> 
> I listened to "Howl" by Florence and the Machine approximately one million times while writing the explicit parts of this chapter. Heavily recommend. Honorable mention to "Kiss With a Fist". In the words of my beloved beta, "a kiss with a fist is better than none. And every other variety of kiss, also."

Hux received the message that Ren had returned in the middle of the night and headed for his chambers immediately. The sensor controlled doors opened in advance of his approach. Hux made a beeline for the bedroom, where he could faintly see the black mass of Ren’s back at the edge of the bed. He wasn’t moving.

Hux was. 

His footfalls were muffled by the fabric of the carpet underfoot. He walked around the unmade bed and came to a halt just behind Ren, dreading seeing his face. When he got close he could see that balanced in Ren’s hands was his most treasured possession. The melted ruin of Darth Vader’s mask.

“Ren!” forced to verbalize why he was there, Hux stumbled over the words. _I was worried. About the Fleet? About the Order? About you?_

“What do you know about the Force, General Hux?”

“No more or less than is commonly known, I think. But there was no way of knowing what was true and what was myth.” 

He still usually addressed Ren with barely concealed disdain, but something about the charge in the air made him speak in a hushed tone. He had never felt the presence of such complete despair. 

“Did you know that Force users can manifest after death?”

Hux’s stomach was a block of ice. He could conceive of no nightmare worse than Snoke appearing to Ren—what torture would a mad, dead wizard enact on the mind of the disciple who murdered him?

He felt the intrusion of Ren’s mind reaching into his own, rougher than usual. He could see that Ren’s hands were shaking. He willed himself to be still. To breathe. But the pain had him visibly trembling.

“ _You_...can’t imagine anything worse?”

The edges of his vision blackened, and he closed his eyes. 

_Against the black of his eyelids he saw a bacta tank, and terror gripped him._

_There was no looking away from the tank, or from the hideous spectre of a rot-bloated Brendol Hux suspended in it._

_He hadn’t been present when his father died, but the image before him was worse than he’d imagined. He couldn’t look away. He had no choice but to watch the roiling purge of flesh and the current of bacta carrying swirls of effluvium up to the filters, which would separate the bilge the man had become from the fluid that should have healed his diseased body._

When Hux was finally able to open his eyes, he found himself stumbling backward with a hand clutched to his mouth to stop him retching. Ren had turned to face him. 

“ _Why_ ,” Hux groaned. 

Suddenly, he was thrown back against the wall. His shoulder blade caught painfully on the edge of the doorway as he slammed into it.

“Why!? Why do you _think_ , Hux!?”

That awful cold blackness took him again.

_This time he saw not himself and not his father, but a young man dressed all in black, with blue lightning arcing over his entire body. Luke Skywalker. Hux saw him begging for mercy._

_“Father, please!”_

_He saw the long-dead Emperor, Darth Sidious, telling Skywalker that he would die._

_Nearby, Darth Vader watched as his son writhed and smoked on the floor._

_And then Vader turned to Sidious, lifted him over his head, and pitched him, screaming, over the edge of the pit._

_Sidious died in a blaze of blue flame, but the lightning he’d intended to kill Skywalker now raced along the circuits of Vader’s infamous helmet, destroying the apparatus that had kept him breathing._

_In the midst of the destruction of the second Death Star, Hux saw Skywalker remove Vader’s helmet to look upon his father once before he died._

_A whirl of smoke. He saw the flaming devastation of Skywalker’s Jedi temple. He saw Ren and his Knights among the wreckage. The ground was littered with the bodies of children—the other students._

_He saw Ren on the bridge over the pit on Starkiller Base, facing a grey-haired man he knew to be Han Solo. He felt Ren’s conflict. He saw his tears. And he saw the droning red blade bloom from Solo’s back. He watched the old man’s body fall._

Hux was freed again, and when he opened his eyes Ren’s tear-stained face loomed large in his vision, gripping his shoulders hard enough to hurt. His head ached and his throat was raw. He felt petrified. He struggled to make sense of what he’d seen. 

“Ask me again,” Ren ground out miserably.

It took him a moment to understand what Ren wanted. With what little voice he had left, he spoke.

“Why?”

“You know why. I’m a monster.”

Hux _did_ know. 

The huge hands holding his shoulders had gone gentle, but Ren didn’t move away from him. As much as it sickened him, Hux called back to mind the image of his father, disintegrating alone in a sterile med-bay. He pictured it clearly, and what feelings he did have about it he affirmed wordlessly. 

Regret was not among them. Brendol Hux had been power-hungry and unspeakably cruel. He’d had goals, but no ideals—the worst of a terrible kind of ex-Imperial. He thought all of those things _at_ Ren. 

But he also thought about every decimated Rebel or Republic-controlled world. And about Starkiller. 

Hux had ideals. He wanted order in the galaxy. He thought about his own childhood, of the cold and the loneliness. Fear, and hunger, and deprivation. He thought that he was doing what needed to be done to keep children across the galaxy from suffering through what he’d suffered. He knew that this was his place. And he thought about how he knew what that made _him._

Ren’s head rocked forward until their foreheads were touching and Hux’s face was curtained by his dark curls.

“I was hoping you might say that,” he whispered sorrowfully. 

Hux put his hands on Ren’s waist and they stood in silence. Ren’s hand drifted to Hux’s chest and Hux knew he would feel the frenzied pounding of his heart. His throat burned when he swallowed, but he spoke anyway.

“Let me help you.”

Ren’s eyes snapped open and Hux felt swallowed up in their depth. He touched the forearm of Ren’s sleeve. Ren raised his hand again, reaching toward Hux’s jaw where tears had settled just under his chin, but he tilted his head away to avoid the caress. Ren said nothing.

He gripped the bottom of Ren’s shirt and pulled it off over his head. Apprehension tugged at his chest as Ren tipped his head back to show the length of scar that stretched from above his eye down his neck to the middle of his chest. His eyes were hard, as if he were waiting for Hux to turn away.

Instead, Hux reached out and very gently touched the seamed skin. Then he moved to the huge circular scar on Ren’s right front shoulder, and then the other one, on his side. Ren’s stomach muscles spasmed under his fingertips. 

He took Ren’s hand and walked past him, drawing him back to the bed. He directed him to sit, then turned and walked out to the sitting room to bring the med-kit back from the table. 

He returned to the bedside a moment later and knelt on the floor between Ren’s thighs. He reached out to cradle Ren’s hand in his own, then gently pulled the bandage away and was pleased to find that the gouge was mostly filled in with healthy pink flesh, and cool to the touch

Hux sighed in relief. He wiped Ren’s arm down, and applied the bacta with his bare fingers, tracing over the healing skin gently. He wrapped it again in clean bandage and as he knotted it off he saw an image in his mind. 

_His own lips pressed to the palm of Ren’s hand._

Hux didn’t know whether it came from him or from Ren, or from both of them—but he saw it so clearly that he _felt_ it, as if it had really happened. He couldn’t be sure it hadn’t. 

Ren showed him something else. Not painfully, the way he had before; this time the images were offered. 

_Ren pulled his hand free of his glove and reached out. He saw the scavenger girl was there, reaching back toward him. And then they were both in the throne room aboard the Supremacy, where Ren offered his hand again._

_“Join me. Please.”_

_And then she betrayed him._

Hux shook his head. 

“You thought the two of you were the same,” he said in a pained whisper. “You thought you knew her. You were wrong.”

A tear fell down one of Ren’s cheeks. Hux eyed it pointedly but said nothing. 

_Now you know me._

Ren drew a shuddering breath. His hand was still touching Hux’s when he offered another set of images, hazier this time. 

_The corner of Hux’s jaw, just under his ear. The sliver of naked skin between the end of his sleeve and the hem of his glove. The way he’d touched Ren’s scars. The flush in his cheeks just now. And other things, that weren’t familiar. Things that...hadn’t happened._

_Things that, despite their closeness and Ren’s bare chest, Hux wasn’t entirely prepared for._

_Ren’s lips on his neck, where there had been bruises. Ren’s hands on his own bare chest, on his stomach. Touching the waistband of his uniform trousers._

Hux pulled away and averted his eyes. 

They were both breathing heavily, though Ren tried harder to keep quiet. He was practically squirming—Hux could tell he was seconds away from trying to end it, and he wanted to stop him. But Ren showing Hux what he could do for _him_ …that wasn’t how this worked. 

He placed his hands lightly on Ren’s thighs, just above his knees, as he had before. Ren went tense. Hux looked up at him. 

“You wanted to manipulate me,” Ren said.

“I did,” Hux confirmed, treading carefully. “Before.”

“And what, now that you know you can, you won’t?” Ren asked sourly. 

“Maybe now I don’t want to.”

“Hm.”

Hux slid his palms up Ren’s thighs. The fabric of his black trousers felt rough and warm under his fingertips. 

“Hux. Come here.”

He obeyed, rising from his knees stiffly and moving to sit on the edge of Ren’s bed. Ren leaned in close to him, gazing down at his mouth—but anxiety clutched at him again and Hux turned his face just barely away. Ren growled, but withdrew, leaning back on his elbows.

Hux raised an eyebrow, challenging.

“Undress me,” Ren ordered.

He touched Ren’s stomach again and watched him twitch. He trailed feather light fingertips farther down, following them with his lips, mimicking what he’d seen Ren’s hands do in his mind. Ren seemed to understand, then, and moaned quietly. Hux admittedly lacked recent experience, but filled in the blanks as best he could. 

There was no fly on his black pants, which Hux discovered when his fingers touched fabric. He dragged the waistband down so that Ren’s cock sprang free, slapping back against his stomach. Hux grinned at Ren’s little grunt of discomfort.

He touched Ren’s cock experimentally at first, just barely grazing it with the pads of his fingers, then gave one long, full-fisted stroke. He watched the way Ren squirmed beside him and listened to his breathing change. In the past Ren had shown the ability to compel a man like a puppet… he wondered if it felt something like this.

Ren scoffed at him. 

Irritation flared up in Hux’s chest. He locked eyes with Ren and leaned down to kiss the ridge of his hip bone. Ren sighed, and Hux noted with satisfaction that there was a needy edge to it. As further punishment, he continued to draw it out with slow and teasing strokes. He heard the shuffle of Ren’s feet against the floor and the rustle of his hands tangling in the bedsheet. 

“Hux…”

Hux looked up and replied, his lips barely a hair’s breadth from the head of Ren’s cock. 

“Yes, Supreme Leader?”

“... _fuck_...”

“Hm?” He let his closed lips rest against Ren’s shaft as he hummed. Another tremor went through Ren and when he spoke his voice was a hoarse whisper.

“Lay down. You’re going to open your mouth, and I’m going to fuck it.”

Wetting his lips with the tip of his own tongue made him feel _obscene_ as he eagerly shifted along the bed toward Ren’s hips. Ren turned on his side and tugged Hux to roll toward him, positioning his cock in front of Hux’s face.

He felt Ren’s big hands holding his head in place as he first pushed into his mouth, but there was give in his grip, and he moved slowly enough that Hux wasn’t too overwhelmed. He followed the guiding sounds of Ren’s panting and half-voiced cries, adjusting his jaw and the set of his lips and tongue to allow Ren as much room as possible. 

Once he felt Ren nearing the edge, so close that he was gasping his name faster and faster, Hux suddenly pulled his mouth away and gripped the base of his cock tightly. He knew the sensation must have been almost exactly like the time Ren had teased him and denied him, that first night.

Ren moaned and swore. 

The sound of it went straight to Hux’s stomach, but he was already ducking his head back in, sliding the entire length of Ren’s cock as far in as he could, until he could swallow the very tip down into his throat. Ren shouted and gasped, rocking his hips shallowly a few times. He was immediately back to the summit and over it, and still he took care to pull his hips back far enough that Hux could breathe as he came hard into his mouth. 

Hux pulled away as Ren flopped onto his back. He couldn’t help but grin when Ren realised he’d swallowed his cum. 

“Hux. Kiss me,” Ren moaned, yanking at his shoulder.

Hux found himself lunging for Ren’s mouth and kissing him hungrily. Ren moved downward and dragged his teeth along the skin of Hux’s neck, while his huge hands roamed urgently across his back and ass. Hux turned and hooked one leg between Ren’s knees, then shifted his weight to press his own erection into the groove where Ren’s thigh met his groin.

“Armitage…”

The spell was broken instantly. Hux couldn’t even wait to pull away before he started talking.

“I have to go.”

“Wait.” 

He was already rolling away, standing, straightening his tunic. 

“Hux, wait!”

“It’s almost time for my shift.”

“Come on, I’m sorry, that was stupid.”

“It’s fine,” Hux said cooly, trying to comb his hair down with his fingers so he wouldn’t look so obviously _fucked_. “It’s just late.”

Ren was sitting up on the bed, disappointment clear on his face. 

“And Ren?”

“Hm?”

“I’ll have to ask you about where you’ve been. And I should file some kind of report about it.”

“For who?” Ren asked. “We’re all there is left of high command. You’re not worried you’ll forget.”

Hux heard and hated the acid in Ren’s tone, but he understood. 

“I don’t...It’s how things have to be done, Ren. I don’t want that to change.” 

By _‘that’_ , Hux meant the First Order. 

“Right.”

“Whatever it is, if it’s not in the Order’s best interests...”

They were both thinking of Crait, and the shuttle bridge, and Hux’s now-healed ribs. 

“I know.” 

That hollow stare was back, had eaten away at Ren’s afterglow. 

“I’m trying to help you, Ren.”

Ren nodded wordlessly.

Hux fled back to his own suite, to collapse into his own bed. He felt somehow cleansed and soiled at the same time. 

~~~

Ren agreed to meet for the debriefing in Hux’s room. Hux had asked so they would have the desk between them. As if there weren’t enough things between them already.

Hux had no idea where to start.

“They said you had...some kind of vision.”

“I showed you the truth about Vader.”

Ren stood staring at nothing for a long time. 

“He turned at the end. Snoke told me it was a singular impulse, that the Darkness was the core of his being. That sentimentality was a weakness that led to his downfall. And Luke...used to tell me about the spirits he saw. Kenobi, Yoda. I had heard Vader’s spirit once, I was sure. Telling me about the strength of the Dark side. And then he came to me.”

Tears streamed steadily down Ren’s face, down to his collar. 

“Vader appeared to you?” 

“Luke. He told me…” Anger and sadness tracked across Ren’s face. Hux had never seen anyone so distraught.

“I used to feel a conflict. Something drawing me to the Light. Snoke tried to break it, to keep me in balance between the two. He told me that balance was my true power. But something in me resisted. I thought it came from within myself. But Luke told me that I couldn’t see it clearly because I had blocked myself off to it. That I would have to open my feelings to see the truth. Vader was….”

Waves of grief were washing off Ren. It was utterly overwhelming, like being dunked in ice water. Hux realised he was holding his breath. 

“That pull to the light. _That_ was Vader. Anakin. Trying to appear to me. But I couldn’t see it!”

Hux kept his eyes on his desk, waiting until Ren collected himself to look back at him. 

“Ren, what does this mean?”

“ _I don’t fucking know, Hux!_ ” 

He slumped into the chair across from Hux, head in his hands. 

Hux eventually rose from his seat. As he approached Ren, he felt sadness clutching at his own heart. He took one of Ren’s hands gently and led him through the office into his bedroom. 

Standing beside the bed, Hux pressed a gentle kiss to Ren’s lips before beginning to undress him. Ren regarded him incredulously, but still raised his arms over his head to help Hux remove his shirt, then stepped out of his boots and the legs of his pants. Hux ushered him under the bedcovers before he undressed himself. 

Despite being naked in front of Ren for the first time, Hux felt none of the unease he had anticipated; even as he stripped out of his briefs, Ren’s attention was utterly focussed on Hux’s face. 

Hux climbed under the sheets and tucked himself against the whole length of Ren’s body. He was shivering violently, so Hux crushed their bodies closer together, and burrowed into the crook of Ren’s neck, trying to find warmth. Ren was clutching at him.

They lay in silence, sharing the pillow. Hux finally succumbed to the long-suppressed urge to touch Ren’s hair, more to distract himself from the awkward silence than to soothe Ren.

“What the fuck am I going to do?” Ren asked after a long time.

“What do you _want_ to do?”

A flash of Ren’s old fury darkened his face. He seemed lost in thought for a moment, but Hux felt none of the old fear, and then the anger was gone.

“I don’t know.”

Another tear trailed across the bridge of his nose onto the pillow.

“What do you want right now?” Hux asked cautiously. He felt and heard Ren’s breathing speed up, then felt him lean in and press his mouth against Hux’s throat.

“I want to stay here.”

Still playing in Ren’s hair again, Hux nodded.

Ren touched the tip of his tongue against Hux’s neck where he’d bitten him before. Hux could feel the hardness of Ren’s erection pressing into his thigh, but kept the rest of his body still. With a sigh, Ren nestled into the pillow and touched their foreheads together again.  
~~~

When Hux woke in the middle of the night, Ren was watching him with a peculiar little smile on his face. Something in it sent a thrill through him.

“You look so different when you’re asleep,” Ren said softly, tracing Hux’s lip with his thumb. “Sort of gentle. I always thought you were such an angry person.”

“I am, I think. Just not always. You make it easy to be angry with you, you know.”

“It’s a defense mechanism. What’s your excuse?”

Hux shrugged, resting one hand in the dip of Ren’s waist.

“I was raised by wolves.”

A little warmth came into Ren’s expression and Hux deflected further by kissing him.

“I’m glad you stayed,” he said, letting his hand trail down to Ren’s lower back.  
Ren nodded sadly. 

They had drifted apart in their sleep. Hux moved back in and hugged Ren close and kissed him on the mouth again. Ren slowly kissed him back and he was surprised to find himself enjoying the unhurried embrace. 

Still warm from sleep, Ren was soft and pliant under Hux’s lips and hands. Hux kissed him more urgently, trying to get back to that spark that had driven them before, but the chill of Ren’s sorrow was smothering. 

“Ren. I need you here,” he whispered.

Ren nodded. “I know. you told me the Order needs me.”

He cupped Ren’s cheek, trying to capture his complete attention.

“Ren, _I want you to stay._ ”

He kissed him again and felt him respond more this time. He pushed, petting Ren’s shoulders, his back, kissing him more insistently. Ren sighed his name, and he took the encouragement, shoving him over onto his back and pushing his head back with one fingertip to his chin. 

“Don’t move.”

Ren licked his lips, but was otherwise still. 

Free of Ren’s gaze, Hux hesitated for one more second before stepping off the bed and walking toward the drawer, where he kept a small nondescript bottle of personal lubricant. He unzipped his fly, and at the harsh sound of the zipper he saw Ren’s chest heave as he took a deep breath. 

He didn’t know what or how much Ren could perceive through the Force without his eyes. Whatever it was, there was no missing Ren’s trembling hands clutching at Hux’s sheets. Hux tried to pretend he wasn’t also shaking. 

Ren kept his eyes squeezed shut, as if he knew how badly Hux needed not to be seen. 

Hux padded back across the floor and climbed awkwardly onto the bed. He straddled Ren’s thighs, and Ren made a sound that was sad and wanting like Hux had never heard him before. He squeezed some of the warm gel onto his fingers and slid them slowly down the length of Ren’s shaft. 

The first touch alone had Ren panting, muscles standing out tense in his neck, but he still didn’t move. Hux tossed the bottle aside and reached back to slip one fingertip inside himself. He rested his other hand gently on Ren’s hip for balance as he worked. He couldn’t rush. He wouldn’t think about the time passing. 

Hux focused on sensation. The glide of one wet finger inside him, then two. Ren’s thighs quivering beneath him. The sweat beading on his neck. He took himself past the point of readiness, until he couldn’t stand to wait anymore. 

He took a slow breath and moved his hips forward, guiding Ren’s cock into himself with one hand. 

He hadn’t told Ren to be quiet but he was. The only sounds in the room were Ren’s heavy breathing and his own. When he finally lowered himself flush against Ren’s pelvis, he allowed himself a sigh. 

He sat still for a long moment, and then he lifted his hips again and leaned forward to press his lube slick fingers to the side of Ren’s throat. He pressed the pad of his thumb back to Ren’s chin. When he had raised himself almost to the point of pulling free he closed his eyes and pushed back down.

“Ren, Let me hear you,” he panted.

Ren’s fingers twisted in the sheets again and his breath left him in one long whine. When Hux bottomed out on him again, he gasped another breath and began to beg. 

“Please, please, yes!”

Hux let out another sigh and swore. He pressed down on Ren’s throat with his thumb forcing his head back further. He bit down on his lower lip and let his hips roll slowly, every exclamation from Ren striking at his core. Once he grew accustomed to the feeling of intense fullness, he let his other hand drift over Ren’s thick waist and up his chest. 

Spreading his weight between Ren’s chest and his throat, Hux started to bounce up and down. Ren cried out, his hands flexing hard and pushing down into the mattress.

He dragged it out as long as he could until his thighs started to burn, and then he grabbed both of Ren’s hands and brought them up to rest on his hips. Then he lowered himself to press their chests together, and kissed his way down Ren’s face to his ear.

“I want you to turn me over and fuck me,” he hissed.

Ren gave a guttural moan and flipped them easily. His grip on Hux’s hips was bruising.

Hux had expected Ren to be rougher with him, but instead his thrusts were deep and slow. He felt Ren lean in closer and push inside him again, trapping Hux’s cock between their bodies. He moved shallowly, letting Hux grind against him until he was hard.

Ren’s breath was hot on his neck, and the sounds he made were wordless, as Hux needed them to be. He didn’t want there to be words to this. Not now. Not here, pinned beneath the bulk of Ren’s body, with Ren’s curls soft against his face and his resounding moans echoing in his head. 

He tugged Ren’s head back until he could kiss him and with his other hand he reached between their bodies to stroke at his cock until he was moaning shamelessly into Ren’s mouth. He moved his own hips mindlessly, whichever way felt best.

Chasing his own orgasm, Hux whispered praise into Ren’s ear, filthy words of encouragement punctuated by the wet sounds of their bodies. 

“Don’t stop, Ren, you feel so fucking good…”

Amid his breathless little sounds, Ren was still planting wet kisses along Hux’s jaw and neck, sucking at soft skin and occasionally closing his teeth gently, making Hux jump every time.

“Want to make you come,” Ren huffed, and suddenly his face was at Hux’s chest, where he pulled a nipple into his mouth, teasing at it with his tongue and sucking hard.

With a gasp and a cry Hux complied, coming loudly with Ren biting and sucking at his chest, leaving a trail of red marks on his pale skin. 

He moved back to Hux’s face and kissed him deeply before he pushed back to rise up on his knees, hands still holding Hux’s hips.

“You’re so _fucking pretty_ ,” he groaned, and then he thrust roughly a few more times before Hux saw the muscles of Ren’s stomach tighten as he came inside him. 

A bubble of anxiety formed in Hux’s chest, but when Ren leaned back down against him, slipping free of the wetness between his thighs, he didn’t try to say anything else. He just covered Hux with his body and kissed him while they both melted against the bed.

Ren even stayed silent when he went into the ‘fresher to bring a towel to clean him up. He wiped the cum off his stomach and followed the cloth with another trail of kisses, sending another wave of pleasure through Hux’s exhausted body. 

Uncharacteristically, Hux refused to check the time, tossing the towel back to the floor and reaching out to bundle Ren’s body back against him. They kissed lazily for a while, until they were just lying together, their hands wandering each other’s bodies aimlessly.

“Hux.”

“Mm?

“I don’t know if I can stay.”

Hux’s eyes snapped open in disbelief. 

“What?”

“Hux, my mother—”

“ _What!?_ ”

“I was trying to tell you…”

“But she _lied_ to you, didn’t she? Do you think she didn’t know about Vader?”

“...No.”

“Couldn’t she have saved you all this pain? If she’d _ever_ told you?”

“Yes.”

“Couldn’t your father have?”

“Yes.”

“And instead, they sent you away. To your uncle. Who could have told you the truth.”

Ren nodded silently. There were tears in his eyes again. 

“He literally waited until he was _dead_ , Ren. They all failed you.”

“Rey is with my mother,” Ren murmured.

A horrified sound escaped Hux’s mouth. He was up and out of his bed, walking toward the door to the refresher.

“Get out of my bed.”

“Hux—” 

“Go find your scavenger girl.”

“I don’t know that that’s what I want!”

Hux rounded on him, wild-eyed.

“I don’t care if you know what you want. You can figure it out _not in my bed_.”

Hux passed through the threshold and hit the panel to close the door behind him, then engaged its locking mechanism. He leaned back against the door, hoping the sensation of the cold metal could drown out the panic building in him. 

Hux’s legs were shaking from exertion. As he staggered toward the shower, he felt Ren’s cum running down his thigh. He retched, but all that came out was a low, ugly howl.

He ran the water as hot as he could stand and stood under the pounding torrent, motionless, until the alarm went off to signal that it was time to prepare for his duty shift. No matter what the day would bring, he was not prepared for it.


	4. Chronic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wounds become chronic when they stay in one stage of healing for too long without progression.
> 
> A terrible reunion between terrible people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE heed the tag warnings. This goes from dub-con to non-con and back again. I do not condone this behaviour, this story is about bad people being bad to one another.

Hux began what was sure to be a miserable day by submitting a report, essentially to himself. This one he was sure Ren would not read. It didn’t matter. There was nothing noteworthy in the official paperwork. 

As far as First Order history would record, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren had received a vision through the Force and taken his personal ship to investigate a nearby abandoned moon. Hux made sure to note that the workings of the Force were mysterious and despite the Supreme Leader’s mastery sometimes even he could misinterpret what it showed him. 

Staring at the datapad, he reflected darkly that if the First Order survived this time of turmoil, and if he retained his commission, this report would be a permanent reminder of one of the most painful events of his entire life. 

He had intentionally avoided reading any of the myriad reports delivered from the other duty shift commanders – he didn’t want to know whether Ren was still aboard the _Finalizer_. He sipped his bitter tea and allowed himself a few more moments of quiet ignorance. 

Unfortunately the man he’d ejected from his bed was his only surviving superior, and absolutely any work he undertook was sure to involve mention of him. Not for the first time, Hux felt disgusted with himself. 

Of all the weaknesses. Of all the indulgences he could have chosen. How could it possibly have gone _this_ wrong? 

Fucking Ren. Hux couldn’t imagine what he thought finding the scavenger girl would achieve – she’d spurned him once already, precisely when he’d had the most to offer her. 

And then Ren had come to him. Or rather, he had gone to Ren. Dropping his head into his hands, he remembered every time he’d come when Ren had called. 

Ren had barely needed to lift a finger to have Hux running to him.

And he’d thought Ren would be the one being manipulated. He could hardly blame him for turning his own weapon against him. Except of course he could.

And so it was that Hux’s daily life returned to barely concealed anger and fuming resentment.

Of course Ren had left. When had he ever had an impulse and not acted on it?

In any other circumstance, he would have been grateful for Ren’s absence; it left him essentially in command of the entire Order with no one to answer to. Of course, there was still the bureaucracy inherent in dealing with planetary governments, opposing factions, and trade agreements. 

None of this was new to him. If anything it felt almost back to normal. Except for a constant dull pain he tried to smother in paperwork.

There was something else, too. 

For maybe the first time since his childhood, he felt lonely. 

Socialization had been something he’d always been able to eschew completely; he’d built a tolerance to it, as he had to caf and brandy. But Ren had practically become a habit, a distraction that he should have loathed. A distraction that he refused to admit was sorely missed. Much as he disdained him, there was no question that Ren had been a source of physical pleasure. Even comfort.

Hux would _never_ admit it aloud, but he’d woken once after Ren’s departure disappointed to find the empty space in his bed cold. 

As the days stretched on, he was often preoccupied and frequently contemplated the rumored Jedi practice of avoiding attachments. That sort of repression had ultimately been their downfall, but now more than ever Hux saw the benefits of such a policy – this was exactly why militaries had rules against fraternization. He’d seen the necessity, but never experienced it personally.

Once, he mused on the nature of thorns. They were a defensive mechanism, not an offensive one. He’d had been right that he’d gotten under Ren’s skin, but he’d failed to see the bigger picture.

First, he’d been plucked.

~~~

Kylo Ren sat in his TIE Silencer, his grip lax on the side stick. 

“Tell me where you are,” he said softly.

“You know I won’t.”

“I’ll find you anyway, if you’re with Leia. I’ll reach out to her.”

“And you think she’ll tell you? After everything you’ve done?”

“You know she will. But I want you to tell me.” 

Rey’s face was flushed, her voice broken by angry tears.

“ _Why can I still see you?_ ”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Snoke bound us. I thought it might end when he died.”

“I wish it had.”

“Do you?”

“So many people are dead. Han Solo, Master Skywalker…” 

“You still mourn him after he turned you away?” Kylo asked incredulously.

“They didn’t turn _you_ away!” Of course Rey saw through him. “They tried to help you! Luke told me about the Temple, it was a mistake! He wasn’t going to do it, but you didn’t give him a chance!”

“That may be true.”

“It is!”

“But he must have told you. I had already turned by then.”

“Snoke must have lied to you, told you something…”

“He told me about my Grandfather,” Kylo interrupted. “But you must know that. You took it from me when we first met. Snoke let the Galaxy think Kylo Ren killed Ben Solo, just as Luke was told Darth Vader killed Anakin Skywalker. But you know my true name. Everything there is to know about me.”

“You told your father that you’d killed Ben Solo. I believe that now,” she said coldly.

“So do I. Whoever that man would’ve been isn’t me. And you’re not the same as that scavenger girl hidden away on Jakku. Those paths are gone, Rey. And you and I are here. Snoke thought I had the potential to surpass Darth Vader’s strength, if I could turn away from the Light as he did, but I don’t think that’s right. The prophecy of the Chosen One called for balance between the Light and the Dark.”

She eyed him warily but he saw that she wanted to hear more. 

“I drew strength from darkness. From pain and anger and hatred. And I saw you embrace the Light with no guidance. I thought I would be your teacher, but I see now...Rey, the two of us together, _that_ is balance. I’m coming to you.”

Whatever it was that connected them failed, and Kylo was again staring out the ship’s view port at cold starlight. 

He didn’t have coordinates, but he didn’t need them. He could follow the trail of Rey’s yearning easier than any map. At the back of his mind, he knew this would be difficult, but he chose to believe that Rey would see reason. All he needed to do now was get to her. 

Knowing he had a long way to go, he settled back into his seat and relaxed. He held the stick gently but firmly and let his mind drift and flow. Meditation didn’t come easily to him, but rarely had he been this motivated. He focused on his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest. He reached out and felt the inner workings of the Silencer responding to his touch, the cold vacuum of space outside, then the bright spot in the Force that was Rey. She wasn’t hiding herself from him. To him that felt like hope.

He could see her so clearly in his mind. He let his feelings guide his hand, steering the Silencer to her. 

~~~

When Hux first discovered that Ren had disabled or removed the tracker on his Silencer he’d shattered a data pad against a wall in rage and frustration. Perhaps Ren had rubbed off on him. 

The situation was beyond his control in a way few things had ever been. He’d wasted hours pacing in his office, a new habit he detested but was unable to curb.

He’d sent private channel messages to the Silencer every few days, less often than the urge arose. He hoped less often than would appear desperate. 

He had warned Ren once about his determination once. Rarely had there been something he wanted that he couldn’t claim. 

The messages were never personal in nature, of course. Encrypted or not there was always the chance they could be intercepted. Kylo Ren was the Supreme Leader of the First Order – and so Hux sent the kinds of communiqués, reports and requests that he would have under normal circumstances.

A thought worried at him. He wondered whether he would receive a response to an honest question.

_Shall I finally claim the title of Supreme Leader for myself, then?_

_We need to know if you’re alive._

_Please, I just want to know where you are._

He hadn’t decided yet whether he should he break down and ask. Whether it would be worse to get an answer or to be ignored.

~~~

Kylo’s heart was in his throat as he landed the Silencer in a bare spot on the desolate steppe.

Rey had agreed to meet, but only on the condition that he come alone, and that he wouldn’t follow her back to where the Resistance was hiding. The blasted landscape offered little in the way of cover, and Rey’s shuttle was the only other non-organic thing in sight.

She’d told him she would be alone, and he hadn’t questioned it. 

She looked so small in the expanse of empty space. The tails of her wrapped garment whipping in the wind – but her presence filled his senses immediately. When he closed his eyes he could feel her, a churning spot of energy, fearful, angry, apprehensive, sad… 

She was so different from when he’d first found her on Takodana. She’d been all those things then, and now she was so much more. Somewhere along the way, she’d found a self-assurance and a strength she’d lacked before, and she’d found it without him. He’d known she would, but he still lamented not being there to watch as she’d come into her power. 

He disembarked and walked toward her. The screaming winds threw his hair into his face and he knew they wouldn’t be able to hear each other clearly. 

_Rey._

_Kylo._

He winced. Her acceptance of his chosen name didn’t feel like intimacy. Kylo Ren was a wall that she’d thrown up between herself and Ben Solo. From behind it, she fired another volley.

_Leia is recovering well. She’s stronger every day._

_The Resistance isn’t. You’ve got what...a few hundred people left? No answers to their distress beacons on Crait? Their time is running out._

_Our time. And it’s not running out. The Resistance will rise again._

He continued to approach her. He got almost close enough to touch her, reached out again.

_You really believe that, don’t you?_

_You’ve lost the Supremacy, and with it most of your weapons production. You’ve lost Snoke and his money. We know the First Order is diminished. You’ll be forced to make planetfall with your whole fleet to resupply._

Her face was hard as stone, where once before he’d found softness.

_There are still whole systems allied with the Order. We will recover from the loss of the Supremacy – we sign new manufacturing and supply contracts every day. Worlds formerly under the protection of the Republic turn to us in its absence._

_Some worlds._

Rey’s confidence was as much a barrier as her emotional distance. She was a true believer, he didn’t need the bond to see that.

_Many. And those that oppose us are being brought to heel._

_And then what, Kylo? You’ll rule the galaxy through fear. Is that what you really want?_

There was no one else there. There was no reason to lie. 

_I don’t know what I want._

For the briefest moment he thought of Hux back on the _Finalizer_ , and of all the unopened messages on his comm. He didn’t know whether Rey could see so he cleared his mind.

_I think you do. I think you’re still conflicted. I think you want to destroy the people who hurt you, the people you say turned you away, or failed you._

He shook his head, but she continued.

_You’re not a child anymore, Kylo, but you still lash out like one. You told me to let the past die. But you won’t. Everything in you is driven by that pain, and the anger it created in you. And you’re conflicted. Killing Han Solo brought you no peace, that’s why you couldn’t fire on the Raddus. You couldn’t bring yourself to kill Leia. Luke died on his own terms, content because he was protecting us. He took that victory from you._

Kylo let his head drop forward, trying to conceal his face with his hair. He longed for his mask. 

_I turned you away once. I don’t want what Kylo Ren has to offer me. Why come back?_ /

He looked back to her face, let her see the grief and shame in his eyes. 

_I need you, Rey. I need you to bring light into the darkness. The Sith and the Jedi have been destroyed – together, you and I can bring balance to the Force._

For the first time since the throne room, he saw some of that old softness in her. Not kindness, and not sorrow. It looked like pity, and he drank it in as if it could save him. 

_When you reached for me on Ahch-To, when we touched hands through the bond, that was the first time I’ve ever truly felt at peace. There was nothing but your Light. You told me I wasn’t alone._

He reached out his hand. He could feel the tears coming and did nothing to hide them. Rey hesitated, then reached out and touched his fingertips to his. He closed his eyes, ready to let peace envelop him again. But it didn’t come. He felt Rey’s conflict this time, as much as his own. 

It dimmed her.

_And then what? I stay with you and keep you from the dark? Forever? You told me I had no place in this story._

His eyes opened slowly. She held his hand in hers, but he saw that she was crying too.

_Life isn’t a story and I can’t be what you need. You’ve had so many chances to turn back on your own. You’ve made your choices. I’ve made mine._

Through their joined hands, through the pain that filled him, Kylo saw the bond in the Force between them.

_He saw himself, a shifting blur of darkness and light at war. He saw the brightness of her. And then, the darkness started to drown out everything in him. He saw faint tendrils of it licking out, touching the edges of her presence like a flame, diminishing her light._

_He couldn’t breathe, he tried to claw it back, to keep it from her._

Their hands came free and he was knocked back by the flare of her resolve. 

There would always be darkness in her where he’d touched. Her light would always be sullied by the grief he’d brought, but she was stronger than him. She would bear the pain he’d caused, but she wouldn’t let it turn her.

She stood before him, looking proud but sad. Beside her was the barest blue glow in the shape of a man. Kylo didn’t need to see his face to know who he was. 

_The Sith may be ended, but the Jedi order will be reborn._

When she turned her back on him, the spirit of Anakin Skywalker turned away as well. 

~~~

When Hux received an encrypted message from an unknown source, his hands shook as he swiped it open. 

It had been weeks and still no word from Ren. He had been making excuses for his absence, but he knew rumours were swirling – rumours that Ren had killed the Supreme Leader and made his escape, that Ren had killed Snoke and then Hux had killed _him_. 

Hux knew he wasn’t well-loved among the old Imperials, but he did have the loyalty of most of his younger officers. Especially the newest, who were products of his programming. Still, rumors could turn heads, especially in uncertain times. They didn’t fear him the way they feared Ren. So they talked. 

He was disappointed that Ren had left a message instead of waiting for a direct communication. There was no video — the Silencer wasn’t equipped for it — but he could hear in Ren’s voice how completely he must have failed. 

In that soft, forlorn voice Ren told Hux that the Silencer had enough fuel to make it to the Western Reaches but he would require a rendezvous to rejoin the fleet. He didn’t mention Rey or Leia Organa. He listed a set of coordinates and the transmission ended.

So, naturally, Hux wrote another report that would probably never be seen by anyone. This time he concocted a more flattering scenario; the Supreme Leader had retrieved a relic hidden in a temple that could only be entered by a powerful and worthy Force user. 

He was well aware it was an overused trope, but he was too angry and impatient to care. He had sworn to himself that the First Order would never be destroyed by Ren’s fractious spontaneity. Whatever had happened, Hux wasn’t particularly interested. He felt certain Ren hadn’t succeeded in seducing the girl to return with him, and he was equally sure he hadn’t killed his mother. What he had heard in Ren’s voice was a reserved kind of sorrow, not like the tumult of anger and grief after the death of his father. 

Ren’s recovery by the fleet (an expense and loss of time that made Hux’s teeth grind) happened in the middle of what should have been Hux’s sleep cycle. Because of course it did. So he stood in the docking bay of the _Finalizer_ , jittery from too much caf and lack of sleep, waiting to see what new disaster Ren would bring with him. 

Ren disembarked from the fighter with his head held high, ignoring the honour guard that had assembled for his return. There were a few of his Knights left from the _Supremacy_ who had gathered as well. Hux had never actually seen any of the Knights out of their masks, and he’d never heard any of them speak. He assumed they communicated through the Force. It seemed like exactly the kind of affectation Ren would love. 

Ren didn’t seem to acknowledge the Knights at all as he strode purposefully toward Hux. He had that look of barely restrained anger in his eye again. Hux suppressed an exhausted sigh when Ren barked at him.

“General Hux. Debrief in your chambers.”

“Of course, Supreme Leader.” Hux turned on his heel and followed immediately. He thought he knew what to expect, and his anger threatened to boil over as they walked. 

~~~

As soon as Kylo was across the threshold of Hux’s office he shoved him up against the edge of his desk and kissed him roughly. Hux pushed Kylo back and slapped him. He was wearing his gloves and there was no smarting of skin on skin.

It did nothing to deter Kylo. He stepped forward again but Hux put his arms out to keep him at a distance.

”Did you forget how we’d left off, Ren? The part where you fucked me and left–“

”You threw me out,” Kylo spat.

”You left the Order to chase your Jedi girl halfway across the Galaxy! Did you honestly think you could stroll right back into my bed?”

He pushed in close again, swatting Hux’s arms aside easily even as he tried to strike him. Hux leaned further back over the desk and Kylo smiled darkly – even without his control of the Force he was still larger than Hux and had no fear of him.

_I could, couldn’t I? If I wanted to.”_

He put one hand flat against Hux’s stomach. He’d barely touched him, but he could feel his pulse racing already.

”Do you want me to stop, Hux?”

”You’re filthy,” Hux complained weakly.

Kylo sidled closer to press their hips together. When he started to slide his hand lower Hux tried half-heartedly to push it away, but he didn’t relent. He could see the anger and the lust mixing in Hux’s unsteady gaze. The colour blooming in his cheeks was incredibly satisfying, and Kylo leaned in further to put his mouth on Hux’s neck as he reached around to knead his narrow ass.

”Ren, _get off_.” 

He took a deep breath, drawing in the scent of Hux’s hair product and stale caf. When he spoke again his voice was a whisper.

”You want me to stop?”

”Yes!”

He clutched at Hux’s cock, groping him firmly with both hands.

”Ren.”

_Stop me._

”I _am_. Fucking stop.”

Kylo moaned against Hux, who replied with a distasteful little grunt and tried to force his hand away from his crotch. He caught Hux’s wrist and pressed his hand against his erection. He felt the little tremor in Hux’s fingers as he tried to stop himself from stroking.

”So your _girl_ turned you away again and you’ve come back to someone you don’t feel guilty about forcing,” Hux snapped. 

Kylo went still for a second.

“Yes.”

Hux’s anger flared again at his admission and he fought against him harder, shoving at his arms and chest. 

“You’re just trying to be cruel, but you’re right,” Kylo said, with a calm that surprised them both. He continued. 

“The difference between us is that you’ve forgotten what it’s like to have people tell you the truth about yourself. This,” he gestured between them, “works because we want the same things. I told you I’d only make you do things I know you want – what’s the point in trying to make me ashamed when you’re the other side of the same coin? It’s the same, even if you don’t say it out loud. I don’t even have to try to take it from you. It consumes your whole mind. It’s the same every time.”

“Get off me,” Hux said without real feeling. “Fucking animal.” 

He didn’t move and for the briefest moment he saw real fear in Hux’s eyes. He didn’t waste energy on feeling ashamed at the arousal that shot through him at the sight.

“I came back because I want to hurt someone. And you like it.”

He took a step back and slowly removed his own gloves. When his hands were bared he reached for Hux’s. Hux peevishly yanked his own gloves off and tossed them back onto the desk. That was enough encouragement for Kylo. He wound Hux’s arms behind him and pinned his wrists in place with one hand. 

Kylo was as insistent as always, and Hux seemed to have lost the energy – or the desire – to fight him. When he tried to kiss Hux on the mouth, he tried to turn his face away, but Kylo grabbed at his jaw and held him in place. He knew Hux shied away from gentle kisses. The intimacy and unavoidable pleasure of it him made him hostile.

Kylo shoved one hand up under the front of Hux’s tunic and was running his nails down the soft flesh of his stomach, kissing him harder, and Hux had to tilt his head back to catch his breath. He followed the scratches with the pads of his fingers, soothing, keeping Hux off-balance. His hand was so close to touching Hux’s cock through his pants. 

When he kissed him again, Hux bit down on his lip and he tasted blood. He’d happily leave red smears behind all his kisses. That thought sent a thrill through him that made it hard to focus. 

Hux was supposed to be fighting back (more than usual), but it had been too long and Kylo followed his own cravings carelessly. 

~~~

Hux’s heart was racing.

Ren had come back for _him_. Even if it was to hurt him. He’d left to find his desert girl, he’d found her, and he’d still come back here to force Hux over his desk and tease him and hurt him and – hopefully – fuck him. 

He had expected more violent anger, and he was embarrassed by how quickly his own arousal was stirred by Ren’s over-eager hands. He rolled his hips and even spread his legs to let Ren push in closer. It reminded him of that first night, in Ren’s room, when he had been the one teasing and pushing. 

But this _wasn’t_ the same. Hux hadn’t offered anything. Ren was here to _take_. He was doing everything Hux had reacted to before. 

Goading him with soft kisses against his mouth didn’t have the effect Ren seemed to be seeking. Ren reached up and wrapped his hand around Hux’s throat painfully, his thumb rubbing over the jumping point of his pulse. A lustful sound pushed past his lips and Ren seemed displeased.

”Hux,” he growled, “don’t just tell me to stop. Stop me.” 

Hux felt the grip on his wrists go gentle and he pulled one hand free to reach for Ren’s hand at his cock.

”Fuck, Ren, _please!”_

Scowling, Ren delivered a hard backhand to Hux’s face, then squeezed his throat again.

”Fuck’s sake, Hux! And I thought _I_ was pathetic. When I just wanted to touch you, you had to turn it into this sick _thing_ , and now you can’t get this right, either.”

Hux’s eyes slid closed and he heard Ren laugh bitterly. One hand came to rest on the side of his face.

”Show me what you did when I was gone.”

He opened his eyes again and frowned in confusion.

”Did you fuck yourself? Or did you just think about it?”

Hux’s face heated further and he couldn’t meet Ren’s venomous gaze. Ren laughed again and shook him a little.

”Show me. Don’t make me take it.”

_Hux, on his stomach, raised up on his elbows and rutting against the mattress._

”Hm. Not with your fingers? I thought you might have missed my cock.”

Ren snaked his fingers down the back of Hux’s pants and dipped into the cleft of his ass. When he rolled his hips back into the touch, Ren growled again and pulled away, then began to tear at the fastenings of Hux’s tunic. Once it was open, he yanked it away and threw it to the side. Then he pulled the black A shirt off over Hux’s head, leaving his ginger hair disheveled and falling across his eyes. 

Hux had never felt so wanton and he wanted it to last.

”Get your pants off,” Ren commanded.

His nerves jangled and his hands hovered at the zipper of his pants for a moment. When Ren spoke his name again it was a warning. He wished Ren would look away, like the last times. But he knew he wouldn’t. 

He didn’t move. He was transfixed by Ren’s eyes.

Ren slapped his hands away impatiently, undid his fly, and shoved his pants down to his ankles. He ignored the boots. Standing back, Ren looked at Hux appraisingly. 

Hux knew he’d gone soft. He swallowed nervously.

”Don’t like it when you’re not the one doing the pushing?” Ren sneered. “Turn around.” 

When he still didn’t move, Ren shoved him, turning him around and then bending him backward over the desk. He pinched one of his nipples hard and Hux gasped. It wasn’t the same lustful sound as before – he was just startled and sensitive there. 

”Spread your ass for me.”

Anger flared in him again, his nails digging into the desktop. He started to protest but Ren silenced him with a resounding slap on his ass. 

Ren grabbed his hands to bring them back up, but _now_ Hux was fighting back. He wrenched his wrists free and planted them on the table again. Still fully clothed, Ren pressed up against Hux’s back and grabbed his wrist, squeezing _hard_. He knew Ren could break his wrist if he wanted. 

“Ren!”

“Not having fun anymore? When someone finds the line and runs right past it?”

“Let me go.”

“You don’t want me anymore? You were so ready.”

He slipped a gentle hand to Hux’s soft cock. 

“No. I don’t.”

Ren stroked him anyway.

“Not like this? Or not ever?”

Hux was shaking. Ren fondled his balls and he tried to draw away to the side, to free himself from his big hands and insistent erection. But with the crushing grip on his wrist he couldn’t get far.

“I thought you missed me. “It sure seemed like you did, when you showed me yourself trying to fuck your own bed. Or is that how you always get yourself off? Are you always quiet like that? I remember how loud you were when I fucked you. When I told you you were pretty.”

Finally Ren used both hands to spread Hux open and slide the tip of one thumb against his asshole, pushing just past the tightness.

Hux bucked forward and spun quickly to lash out against Ren’s chest with all the force he could muster. He slapped him again, kicking his way out of his boots and the pants that had hobbled him. He kept striking out, fingers clawing across Ren’s face wildly.

Ren laughed and let the momentum of Hux’s rage carry him backward. His head connected with the floor with a sick, hollow sound. He let Hux hit him one more time, a full-fisted punch that left his cheekbone red. 

“Hux, stop, stop!”

To his revulsion, Ren was laughing again. Hux wrapped his hands around Ren’s neck and pressed down with his entire weight. Ren could have stopped him at any second, but he let it happen for a few moments. Then he held Hux in place with the Force. Held his weight back but left him sprawled across Ren’s body. 

“I think I like you better like this,” he said grinning at Hux’s renewed erection.

Hux’s chest was heaving. Deprived of his ability to move, he spat in Ren’s face. 

Ren hooked his hands around Hux’s suspended shoulders to drag himself up and kiss his half-opened mouth roughly. Then he fell back and released Hux from the Force compulsion. 

He didn’t try to choke Ren again, and he didn’t pull away. But he left one hand on Ren’s throat, the other on the floor to hold himself up.

“ _Fuck_ you, Ren.”

Ren let his hands roam over his naked body possessively. When Hux felt him touch his thighs and ass again he was right back where he’d begun, almost painfully hard. Panting, with a drop of sweat running down the side of his face, he responded to Ren’s touch with little twitches of his hips.

Ren tangled one hand in Hux’s wild hair and licked that sweat drop from his cheek before kissing his neck again. They both sighed.

Then Ren spoke.

“I’m going to destroy everything that’s ever hurt us. Everything in the Resistance, the Republic, the Order, the Empire...”

He gently moved one hand up Hux’s chest to tease at a pink nipple, then slid the other down to his cock, drawing moans from him. 

“And you’re going to help me, Grand Marshal.”


End file.
